Born to be a King
by Knowing Grace
Summary: Edmund comforts Peter for a change, and reveals just how wise he has become. A one-shot that ties in with my other story, "Worries".


**If you are reading this and it seems familiar, I had posted it here before, but removed it due to the mirrored sites thing. Sorry about the confusion. This one-shot kind of goes along with my other story "Worries", but you don't have to read it for this to make sense. Actually, this one kind of comes first anyway. ;)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Narnia-though I wish I did. Maybe we would have all seven books converted to films by now if I did. No copyright infringement is intended; I just wrote this to share my love of Narnia with others.**

* * *

 _ **Born to Be a King**_

 _ **by Knowing Grace**_

Sometimes I wish I was a little boy again and could climb up onto my father's lap, and let him make all of my decisions for me. But I am no longer a child—time and experience has seen to that. I long to speak with him; there are so many things I need to know, so many questions that need answering. But there is no point in wishing. He is at war in a world that seems almost like a dream to me, and I have the strange feeling that maybe I shall never see him again. I am now the man of the family and a leader of a people I did not expect to rule. I must make the proper decisions for both my younger siblings and the kingdom in which we now dwell.

I put my head in my hands and let out a deep, heart-weary sigh.

"Peter? Peter, whatever is the matter?" Came an unexpected but not unknown voice and I nearly leaped out of my skin. Glancing upwards, I spied my brother standing there before me, his brow knit in concern for me. I gave him a wan smile that would not have fooled even the blindest of badgers and patted the empty spot beside me on the marble bench, gesturing for him to join me. He quickly settled himself down and after noticing how gangly his limbs were becoming, I realized that he was growing again. Soon he would be as tall as me—if not taller.

"Matters of state, that is what ails me, Brother. That and Susan's attempts at playing Mr. Tumnus' flute." Edmund groaned, but I could see the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in amusement.

"I don't know what possessed the Faun to try his hand at teaching her that when she sadly is not musically gifted. I had no idea that an instrument could sound so much like a dying goose before this evening." He replied, causing me to chuckle at the thought of the fowl-er, foul-sounding flute my sibling was playing.

"Yes, tis sad, but really, I suppose we must give her credit for trying..." Our sister hit a particularly sour note right at that moment, and we both grimaced. "Or perhaps not." I added as an after thought.

For a while, we just sat there, enjoying each others company without one word passing between us. But the moment could not last, and at length, Edmund turned to face me, his features set in a way that I knew he was serious about whatever he was going to say.

"You look tired, Peter, are you sure that you are well?" I turned the question over in my mind for a bit before answering him.

"I am not ill, not physically, at least."

"But?" He prodded when I again fell silent—he had yet to master the quality of patience.

"I miss home." I said. He blinked, surprise written across his face, so I elaborated, "Not England exactly, but I miss our parents, Father in particular. He always knew what to do and say. I need his wisdom; here in Narnia, we've been thrust into the roles of Kings and Queens, which is wonderful, but every day that passes only serves to remind me just how utterly out of my depth I truly am. As a ruler I am supposed to make the best decisions for our subjects, but I am at a loss as to what I should do most of the time. I feel as though someone has tossed me into the deep end of the pool, but I do not know how to swim. Does that make any sense?"

He nodded. "Yes. Yes, it does make sense, but you have to take into account that we are all children. Royals, yes, but children none the less; we are bound to make mistakes. No one can fault us for that."

I shook my head. "No, Ed, you do not understand. I am the High King; my age matters not at all. The people look to me for guidance and I am unsure of what I should do. Maybe...maybe I am not fit to be King."

A warm hand gripped my shoulder and I looked into my brother's brown eyes and saw something in them I had never seen before: conviction.

"You are wrong, Peter. I do understand a great deal more than you think I do. In Father's absence, you are in charge of the rest of us, and that in and of itself is a difficult thing, but to ask you to run an entire kingdom by yourself...that is another matter entirely. However, you are forgetting one important thing. You are not alone. You have me and Susan and Lucy, and though we look to you for leadership, you do not have to bear the burden of the throne by yourself. Whenever you feel bogged down, confer with us, or with Aslan when He is in the vicinity, and we will help you."

"Oh, but I couldn't do that—"

"Peter, this is not a request, it is an order. You are just a boy, and you are not the only one with a brain."

I sighed again and slowly nodded, rubbing a hand down one cheek as weariness flowed over me. "All right, if you insist."

"I do." He replied, releasing my shoulder and I stood from the bench.

"Well, now that that is settled, I feel I really must go to bed, or sleep where I sit." I said, turning to go, but Edmund's voice stopped me before I could take a step.

"And one other thing. You were chosen by the Lord Aslan Himself, Son of the Great Emperor over the Sea, to be High King of this realm. I have learned in our brief time here that Aslan looks beyond the strength of body and into the heart; he uses the weak things of this world to perform great deeds beyond us for our good and His glory. And He does not make mistakes." He stood slowly and let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "I should know, he turned this traitor into a ruler of Narnia."

I stared at him for a long moment, then threw my arms about his shoulders, embracing him.

"When did you become so wise?" I asked, tears coursing down my cheeks and wetting his dark hair.

"I've always been wise, you just never noticed until now." He replied and I half laughed half sobbed into his shoulder, allowing my younger brother to comfort me for a change. "Oh, Peter, no matter how unworthy you feel, always remember that you were born to be a King." He whispered.

We stood there for a long moment until another awful blast from the direction of Susan's chambers reminded us that we were standing on a public balcony and could be walked in on at any minute. I slowly released him and dried my tears on the sleeve of my tunic—a most unkingly thing to do.

A yawn made my jaw pop loudly and I felt my face turn a dull crimson as Edmund snickered at me.

"Well, I believe that is my cue. Sweet oblivion is calling my name." I commented and Ed patted me on the back, letting out a longsuffering sigh.

"If you must. And while you rest, I will try to see if I can persuade Sue to drop flute lessons, she really is giving me a most dreadful headache..."

 **~ Finis**


End file.
